


doing nothing often leads to the very best of something

by knlalla



Series: quick fics [7]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Slice of Life, and laziness in general, that pic from phil's post for dan's bday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: based on this (x) and a lil imagine i wrote (x) and expanded on so thanks to the lovely anon who originally sent "that pic phil posted of dan for his bday i think where dan is making a funny face and theres a nearly empty wine bottle in the background hhhhh that makes my demon heart drop" and to the lovely anon who asked for more!





	doing nothing often leads to the very best of something

Today is not a day for doing things.

Dan came to this conclusion after his long lie in had gone well past the point of a typical long lie in, stretching into the afternoon like a lazy cat in a sunbeam. Which, coincidentally, is about how he feels now, tucked halfway under the covers of the bed and tapping absently at his laptop. He’d made a few attempts at sending some emails earlier, even drafted up a tweet he thought might be entertaining, but he’s since decided it’s a nothing day, and therefore nothing should be getting done.

So, of course, nothing gets done.

There’s a soft sound at the door and Dan turns, an effort he only makes because he’s well aware of who’s stood there.

“Thought you might like some tea,” Phil offers softly, the way he does when he isn’t sure what kind of day it is. He’s leaned up against the door frame with a steaming mug in hand, looking just the same as he had when they’d both woken up ages ago: stubble on his face that says he hasn’t bothered with shaving, the same rumpled red t-shirt he’d slept in, and hair pushed back in a messy quiff - that bit’s entirely Dan’s fault, and he grins at the memory of running his fingers through Phil’s hair, of the slow, sleepy kisses Phil had pressed to Dan’s neck, his bare shoulder, before Dan’s eyes had drifted back shut, before he’d been drawn back into a dreamless sleep.

Phil had left before Dan had woken again - and Dan had honestly been glad for some time alone - but now that he’s back in sight, Dan wants nothing more than to drag Phil back into bed and continue this day of nothing wrapped in his arms. He pats the covers, inviting him to do just that.

Phil just huffs out a breath that Dan’s pretty sure is a laugh, shaking his head.

“You’ve been laid in bed all day, you’ll be mad if I don’t make you get up,” Phil protests, lifting the tea in a silent attempt to entice Dan from under the comfort of the covers. And it works - well, not the tea, that’s hardly a reward for disobeying his body’s insistence that _nothing is meant to be done today, including getting out of bed_. But Phil’s asking - or, rather, _telling_ \- so Dan sets his laptop aside, shoves the duvet off his lap and stretches his legs out across the bed. 

They take a moment to adjust to moving, the muscles warm and lax under his skin, but they work well enough when he pushes himself up to stand beside Phil at the door. It’s an effort, though he supposes it was well worth the trouble when he leans into Phil, when Phil wraps an arm around his waist and guides him from the bedroom. 

When they reach the stairs, however, Dan tilts his head back at the ceiling and lets out a groan.

“Phil, the _stairs_ ,” he grumbles, stubbornly holding his ground against the light pressure on his back, Phil’s attempt at encouragement. “I can’t do _anything_ today.” Dan relays this important - _imperative_ , he realizes - information on the breath of another groan. 

And then Phil’s behind him, shoving at his back and making him stumble a step forward, a step closer to the mountain of a staircase in front of him.

“ _Phil_ ,” he whines again, but it’s apparently no use, and he’s left wondering when the hell Phil got so strong that he’s having no problem pushing Dan along and forcing him to climb the steps. Or maybe Dan’s not fighting as hard as he thought. Frankly, his legs are pretty focused on not tripping and sending him flying face-first into the wooden steps, and his brain is still demanding _nothing_ , so he supposes it’s a miracle he’s even able to protest _verbally_.

Phil somehow manages to coax Dan into the lounge, the location of the first available soft surface since he left his bed, and he collapses onto the sofa the moment it comes into view. 

“Anime?” Phil asks, which seems like a silly and unnecessary question - although Dan supposes they could catch up on that baking show they’ve been watching as well. He grunts into the cushion, the closest his mouth feels like getting to a proper answer, and the sofa shifts when Phil settles by his legs.

The TV clicks on, and Dan makes slow, lazy progress up into a sitting position - about halfway through the episode, he finds himself propped against Phil’s shoulder, and he decides that’s about all the effort he really needs to expend. It’s not like he’d want to go anywhere else anyway.

After a few more episodes - Phil insists it’s four, but Dan knows it’s only been three - Phil nudges Dan.

“Dinner?” He asks, and Dan cycles through a very demanding round of mental math that leads him to several conclusions: first, Phil was right, it’s actually been four episodes. Second, it’s quite a bit later into the evening than he initially realized. And third, he’s _definitely_ hungry. He decides to keep the first of those revelations to himself.

“I could eat,” he shrugs. “Pizza?” That’ll require minimal effort on both their parts, so Dan supposes it suits his nothing day well enough.

“Only if you answer the door,” Phil quips back, and Dan rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath how _you really need to learn how to do things for yourself, Phil_ , but ultimately he knows he’ll do it because Phil asked. Because sometimes it’s nice to do things for Phil, even when he’s gone and forced Dan out of bed and made him climb the whole damn staircase on a day he’s meant to be doing nothing.

“ _Fine_ ,” he says aloud, and Phil pulls his laptop over, places the order, then sets it back aside. Dan watches without really watching, and this turns into watching the anime without really watching, which turns into Dan becoming immensely distracted by his own thoughts.

He doesn’t get far down any mental hole, though, before the buzzer sounds and he’s being shoved at by Phil, forced to stand and make his way to the door, to open it, to plaster on a smile and pretend he wants to be meeting anybody of any sort whilst wearing his sweatpants and hoodie on a nothing day. He supposes pizza will have to do as a reward for his efforts.

And by the time he manages to get back to the lounge, Phil’s somehow acquired a bottle of wine and two glasses, and Dan decides maybe pizza _and wine_ are a sufficient reward. And Phil, Phil’s always part of the reward. 

After the entire pizza has disappeared along with the first bottle of wine, Dan somehow manages to convince Phil to get _just one more bottle- well I’m not getting it, I can’t do anything today!_ And then they’ve gone through most of that - Dan’s glass isn’t quite empty, nor is the bottle, so he insists they didn’t _completely_ finish it - and they’re still watching the same show, episode whatever-whatever, it doesn’t really matter, and leaned heavily against each other.

He can feel the mix of wine and pizza running through his blood, sending everything into a foggy haze that pushes and pulls things in and out of focus; so when one of the characters makes a funny face on the screen, full of bared teeth with lips pulled back, Dan stares at it for what feels like five full minutes before his mouth does its damndest to try to replicate it. He’s not sure where the energy came from - or the _desire_ , for that matter - but he’s suddenly desperately needing to match it perfectly.

“Phil, Phil,” he says through his teeth, nudging into Phil’s shoulder and turning just enough that he hopes Phil can see; Phil - half asleep, Dan notices - blinks a few times, eyes widening just enough to take in the view. 

At which point he breaks into a fit of unexpectedly loud giggles, burying his head into Dan’s arm and shaking him with the force of his laughter. Dan’s face scrunches up, losing what he was _sure_ was the perfect replica of the expression on the screen. Which has long since gone, so how’s he meant to ask Phil if it matches now?

“ _Phil_ , wh-”

“Do- do it again, wait, wait, hold on,” Phil interrupts Dan mid-sentence, pulling away - but _still fucking giggling_ \- and fumbling around his lap and the sofa. A moment later, he’s produced his phone, holding it up with the camera pointed shakily at Dan and a concentrated frown on his lips as he watches the screen. “Do it, do it, do it,” Phil chants, mouth curling up into a grin, and if it were _anybody else_ asking, anyone else thinking to take a picture of what Dan’s now certain was a horribly embarrassing expression, he’d have half a mind to grab the phone from their hand and toss it across the room.

But it’s Phil, and if this day of not-really-doing-nothing has proven anything, it’s that he can’t quite say no to Phil.

So he huffs out a breath that sort of sounds like a laugh but _definitely isn’t, because I’m just doing this for you and I’m not enjoying a single second of it, Phil,_ and does his best to replicate the stupid expression again. He can feel the wine turning everything fuzzy and light, and he does his best not to let his lips curl up in a grin. The character hadn’t been grinning. And nothing about this situation is funny, so Dan has _no desire to smile at all_. None whatsoever.

“Wait, wait wait wuh-wuh-way-way-way…” Phil’s words melt together as his hand reaches forward, pushing the hair up off Dan’s forehead; Dan does his best not to move, but he can feel that silly urge to giggle building up in his chest again. For no reason at all, because this isn’t funny in the slightest and _can you get on with it already, Phil?_

“Hee _hee,_ perfect!” Phil giggles, and the _second_ he taps on the screen - Dan has to assume it’s to take the picture - Dan sputters out a laugh himself. 

“‘S not- it’s- _it’s not funny,_ ” Dan says through his own giggles, failing miserably at schooling his features back into a frown as he shoves at Phil’s arm. But Phil’s _far_ too busy staring at the screen, free hand covering his mouth and failing to muffle a noise that sounds _suspiciously_ like laughter. At the picture of Dan, obviously. “ _Phil_!” He whines, grabbing for the phone.

But Phil doesn’t relent, not right away, and Dan finds himself sprawled across Phil’s lap and dragging at his arm, trying to get the phone within reach - between that and the burn in his stomach from _definitely not laughing at all_ , a wave of exhaustion crashes through him, reminding him that today was meant for _nothing_ , and he should probably quit doing things before it’s no longer a nothing day.

So he flops back, laying flat across Phil and crossing his arms over his chest with an exasperated sigh; he ends up turning his head as well, because Phil’s giggles haven’t completely subsided and Dan can feel his own bubbling up in his chest, and he _can’t_ look at Phil because he has to show how displeased he is and he can’t very well do that while laughing.

After a few seconds of silence and pouting, Phil’s phone finds its way into Dan’s field of view - and sure enough, his own face stares back at him, looking about as embarrassing as he’s probably ever looked but _damn_ if he didn’t get that character’s expression spot on. 

For some reason, it’s _that_ thought that sets him to giggling again; he follows the screen as Phil pulls it back and taps few times once it’s in front of his face. Dan exhales a resigned sigh.

“You’re gonna post it, aren’t you?” He mumbles, shaking his head and staring at the ceiling - he supposes this is what he gets for spending all day doing nothing: a flood of embarrassment when everyone asks what the hell he was doing making that face. How to even begin explaining where his head was at?

“I’m not!” Phil counters, still tapping at his phone in an extremely unconvincing way. Dan quirks a brow, huffs out a breath in disbelief. “I’m _not_!” Phil argues again, this time flipping the screen around. Sure enough, he’s typing something in his notes app, though he’s already spun the phone back before Dan can properly read it. “I won’t post it,” Phil mumbles to the screen, lip curling in a smirk that does nothing to reassure Dan, “I _promise_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies! If you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/178024536052/oh-wow-that-bday-picture-is-everything-do-you)


End file.
